#disguise
She's always happy, always glad
Always smiling, never sad
That's what they see, that's what they know
The girl with joy that seems to glow
She lifts her friends and holds them high
Wipes their tears and asks them why
She puts them first and ignores her pain
And smiles through every storm and all the rain
She makes sure no one feels alone
Though emptiness is all she's known
She gives them light, she gives her best
While darkness pounds inside her chest
She laughs out loud, she shines so bright
A perfect picture in plain sight
But all she feels is hurt and fear
The opposite of what appears
An extrovert, that's what they see,
But that's not who she gets to be
For all her joy is a disguise
Of her broken heart and smiling eyes
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 4:44 PM UTC
A gleam of white
through a sly smile.
Dark doe eyes,
raised brows—
a suit-clad arm
reaches out.
“Let me help you.”
Instantly hypnotized,
I give him everything—
everything I own,
everything I know.
A rich laugh
breaks the trance.
“Thank you.”
I watch the dark figure
back into the shadows
taking everything.
Angelic beauty—
a devil
in disguise.
Oct 24, 2025
Oct 24, 2025 at 11:09 AM UTC
My heart is glass, surrounded by pain—
or pane— a window no one should tap,
yet everyone does. My mind is a registry,
waiting to be filled with letters and numbers,
each thought like a record of what I owe
and what I’ve lost.
I bank my worth on others, to write myself
as a blank cheque, but when you cash me
in, what if there’s nothing left?
_Tap.
Tap.
Tap_—
Could you please not tap too hard.
Fear splinters easy these days, like a dog
lunging at shadows, like me chasing
a rabbit I’ll never hold.
The bushes rustle— something unseen,
waiting to pounce, its teeth already in my
skull, mocking a fragile picture of my demise.
Laughter claws the silence raw—
__don’t crack me up.__
Because I’m only glass. And I’m only prey.
And I’ve been hiding all along, a glass rabbit
in disguise— already hearing the fractures
before you ever touch me.
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 12:41 PM UTC
She left Reno
in a satin slip
the color of hot coins
pouring from slots,
wearing chewed-up tennis shoes,
mirrors multiplying her,
the marquee burning out
letter by letter,
a hush pressed between her teeth
as if saving the last note.
I followed,
a gangly shadow,
mother’s voice in my ear:
"life is not a freeway exit."
But she was the exit.
She drove west
through a glittering throat.
In Tonopah she was a waitress,
red stains on her wrists,
sleeves tugged low,
coffee pouring thin as blood.
In Barstow she was a sun-bleached Madonna,
halo blistered, mouth lit in stained glass.
At a gas station in Needles
shimmering into a coyote’s shadow
and slipped behind the pumps.
Then movement along the fence,
low, quick—
gone again.
Casinos blinked like electric relics.
Truckers called her sugar,
greedy hands counting her ribs
as if she was the paycheck
sweating in their fist,
but she slipped away each time,
her silhouette already moulting-
a serpent skin, a smoke-trail,
a saint’s shadow burning off the wall.
By Malibu, the night
had softened to velvet.
The pier at Zuma
leaned into the Pacific
like a broken bridge.
She sang to me—
low, cracked—
then let the slip fall.
Her body cut into the dark tide,
no disguise.
I waded in after her,
ankles bruised by rock.
Water lit with jellyfish,
each pulse a warning.
I stopped where it deepened,
felt the pull take hold.
No exit left,
just the Pacific’s mouth
closing around her.
Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 8:08 PM UTC
We were lessons in disguise
you taught me never to trust,
and I taught you that when a feeling deserts the heart,
it never finds its way back.
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 9:13 PM UTC
In porcelain skin, you seek to hide,
the stains of shame, the weight inside,
you call yourself a doll, a lamb so white,
an innocent thing, untouched by night.
But pink-hued dreams, and rosary beads,
can't wash away the secrets you've concealed,
the whispers in the dark, the choices made,
the ghosts that haunt, the paths you've strayed.
You cling to symbols of a bygone age,
a nostalgic longing for a simpler stage,
but innocence, like youth, is lost in time,
and no amount of prayer can rewind the crime.
The colour pink, a fragile, fading hue,
can't cover up the truth, the things you've been through,
the fears that grip, the doubts that creep,
the shadows that haunt, the demons that seep.
You're scared of God, of judgment's might,
of being seen, of being cast into the night,
but rosaries, like talismans, can't keep at bay,
the darkness that lurks, the fears that stray.
Oh, lamb, oh doll, oh innocent thing,
you're not as pure as you would have them sing,
you're complex, messy, multifaceted, and worn,
a tapestry of flaws, of trials, and of scorn.
Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 6:44 AM UTC
the cloak,
rips apart
the castle,
comes crumbling down
the marigold,
wilts away
you and i,
foreverbound
honesty,
in my every breath
a lie,
in each of yours
who are you really,
beneath whatever you pretend to be?
Jul 4, 2025
Jul 4, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
In a quest to find myself I set out in disguise
I trekked many a winding valley and mountainside
And it was a very many years before I found Myself; at last.
For I was wearing a very good disguise.
Mar 12, 2025
Mar 12, 2025 at 5:41 PM UTC
The night wraps itself around me, a velvet shroud,
Whispering promises of warmth in its false crowd.
I stumble into her arms, but her name escapes me,
A faceless phantom, filling empty shapes.
The lights blur, the music dulls the ache,
Her touch a fleeting balm for what I fake.
Laughter spills like wine, hollow and thin,
But it can't drown the silence screaming within.
Her eyes search mine, but find nothing inside,
Afraid she'll see our feelings collide.
A soul adrift, lost in an endless sea,
Clinging to strangers for company.
I tell myself it's enough, this fleeting play,
A masquerade to keep the darkness at bay.
Yet when dawn arrives, her warmth is gone,
And I’m left with my shadow to lean upon.
The bed feels colder, though I am not alone,
Her presence fades like a forgotten tone.
What am I but a man with borrowed fire,
A marionette of fleeting desire?
I long for something deeper, real and true,
But my hands are too stained to reach out for you.
And so I drift, lost in the night’s disguise,
Hiding my emptiness beneath blank eyes.
Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 12:19 PM UTC
You sit on a throne of lies
Watching me struggle with your ladder of deception
Eyes don't always look for the disguise
Your particular ugly's deep under the skin
I fell for your generic guise
Can't help but fall in lust over and over again
Another broken heart is my prize
This is not love,
This is a forbidden sin
The apple I should have never bitten
©2024
Oct 12, 2024
Oct 12, 2024 at 6:58 PM UTC
An unwanted prize
That's what lies
Beyond the reflection of skies
Behind these blue eyes
Past this gentle disguise
Child like but wise
Keeping from view what would give rise
To a litany of farewells and goodbyes
©2024
Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 2:37 PM UTC
When I look into your misleading eyes
I wish I didn't see past the disguise
I'd rather not be face to face with deceit and lies
That give my walls a reason to rise
©2024
Aug 28, 2024
Aug 28, 2024 at 7:00 PM UTC
High on hope
It's more dangerous than any drug
The natural euphoria
Still gets pulled out from under like a rug
Beware the come down
Depressions clutch can be disguised as a hug
Careful when digging for more
You might realize it's your own grave that you've just dug
©2024
Aug 23, 2024
Aug 23, 2024 at 9:44 PM UTC
Earthly possessions, earthly possessions;
At most they’re all of my greatest confessions
As the mask I so love to wear over my face
Is a mask made out of chameleon skins-
It grants me a shrewd changing appearance,
Camouflaging myself, to fit in with the crowd.
Jul 6, 2024
Jul 6, 2024 at 11:34 AM UTC
(inspired by ‘Dusty Rose Dreaming’ by vb)
We’re powdered city girls heading into a club,
bright orchids entering the hothouse,
spreading fun with noblesse oblige,
qua somethings suited for silver screens.
Our attention’s as uncertain as the stock market.
Experts at mixing trickery and disguise,
we’re but vague summations of nature,
as we sparkling preen, like excited atoms.
Rouged and kohled to unnatural colors,
dressed in silk-whispers to tease and entice,
in neon-light, broken by par-cans, scanners
and champagne flutes, we’re superhero-like
immune to societal judgment and aghast rebuke.
In our few, fleeting nights of youth
let our voices chorus in laughter.
What’s it to you? Tell the truth.
.
.
Songs for this piece:
Baby You’re a Superstar by NuDisco
Love Land by the Blenders
Nostalgie Du Voyage by Nightflight
Apr 21, 2024
Apr 21, 2024 at 1:10 PM UTC
I think of you in the eve and morn,
your beautiful face and aphrodisiac form.
But can it be you that I truly love?
Or are you a mask
for one I dare not think of?
The two of you have the same dark eyes,
and gentle souls. Are you a guise
for the hidden one whom I hold more dear?
Are you a shield against that which I fear?
Be it so. You’re a comfort to me,
so that I can have my fantasy, and,
reality.
Feb 11, 2024
Feb 11, 2024 at 8:59 PM UTC
trust:
to open yourself up to be wounded
to spread yourself out
like a target, my heart the bullseye
easy to spot
easy to target
easy to exert your control over
why do I keep falling for it?
lies
disguised
as something real
trust:
something I will not be foolish enough to give away again
Feb 4, 2024
Feb 4, 2024 at 9:22 PM UTC
They ignore every storm on the sea
they only see what they want to believe
and they believe all the lies they’re told.
So when you confess you yearn for the end of it all
they respond but how could I have possibly known?
Despair doesn’t care about a sign
It never minds the decline
and not one time did it believe your words
since you only remember every lie.
So you just suffer in silence like you want
and they say be thankful it could always be worse.
Nov 27, 2023
Nov 27, 2023 at 8:32 PM UTC
19/08/2023
Hapless who strain,
voice and words for people,
hapless who drill
thinking it's lethal,
this folly encourages,
the ethos of silence,
on paper, counterfeit order stands,
while hastened thoughts simmer
in a cauldron of violence.
If I catch sight of you
with a pavulon vial,
I'll behead you for cheating,
engage, fight me,
draw the trenchant blade,
low profiled, distant, and shallow,
instead of laughter from the coffin.
Pull out your prosthetic faith,
before hissing Christ swallows
the descending heaven prospect.
Give me an authentic shoot-out,
where you bleed till death,
give me a duel,
light up a matchstick,
entourage with a
black powder keg.
On a formica table,
you roll the dice
if you lose,
whip yourself,
and one archangel dies.
If I lose,
tie a bangalore
around filthy neck,
and my words of nonsense
will meet a disgusted hail marrow crusade.
Where I challenged,
pleasingly conforming chains,
we'll answer who follows
a pale reflection of faith.
So pick up the glove
before it taints,
silence isn't priceless,
words foreshadow the pain,
one has to die
for the other's blemishes,
deception, venom, or vain.
Unholster courage,
gas me the rage,
ignite the fire,
matchstick awaits,
assume the form of a neophyte,
bare cognition flickers,
just hold my iron-branded hand,
till clash finds muffled eyes,
and clots reach one of our brains.
Just hold my hand,
the dice will turn into Pontius Pilate's
pointing finger, whose candle fades,
just hold my hand,
one ends up shrouded
in blasphemy cloak,
anointed pariah,
yet authentic instead.
Or end up like Sisyphus,
with a bespoken
boulder-like cross,
bland, spineless,
stripped of sense.
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 1:02 PM UTC
She ran a boarding house in Boston,
But they used her size to terrorize men
And lead them to the lock-holes.
Or was she a lady clad in black ruffles,
Presented to the Queen in 1844?
Perhaps she was a racehorse
Foaled in Harlem and won a prize.
She had peddled drugs and run a gang
In the chaos of Civil War,
Black Mariah escaped from the darkness
Of Edison’s studio to roam the world,
But in it found herself re-imagined.
They named police wagons after her
It’s said, but no one knows the truth.
Did she cross the battle lines again,
To tread on civil rights?
Or swing the batons in Chicago
And fire rifles at Kent State?
She seems to take time out to charm
Gruff-voiced men who sing her praise.
She prowled the streets of Brixton,
In 1983, with truncheons at her side.
Through gas clouds, dragging men to jail.
Black Mariah is with us still,
Helping to create tyrants and traitors,
To stop the mouths of those who defy
She’s an accessory to the killing.
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 7:09 PM UTC
when i write
i always find myself wishing that i wrote like Lana del Rey,
making even the simple things seem extraordinarily grand, to be able to glamorize what is sometimes a painfully normal life
i want to touch someone's skin
and write about it in a way that makes someone feel as though they're touching velvet
i want the kiss we shared
to linger on someone's lips like the taste of their favorite chapstick
i want to write about love
so that in turn someone will lust for what i already have
i want to write about my years of pain and isolation in a way that makes someone want to rip their own heart out and offer it up to me on a platter made of shimmering, sterling silver
which, of course
i'd have to refuse
because what would a writer be if surrounded by love and admiration they knew was real, that they didn't doubt for even a second
although, the sensuality of the circumstance might be tempting
an artist without eternal, incessant suffering
is merely a wolf in sheep's clothing
or a fool who thinks he's a king
they simply aren't built to last
i want to write about my mid-night thoughts and for someone to think: Lana would be proud
Jul 27, 2022
Jul 27, 2022 at 11:46 PM UTC
Behind
my
eyes
were a
disguise,
a monster
that's
unwise.
Apr 11, 2022
Apr 11, 2022 at 8:06 AM UTC
you can see the forward
in my eyes
skin lined with the people
to so far thank for the ride
if you delve into the chapters
there's a need to sit down
this is no fiction nobody's clown
the story will end
right in front of your eyes
where I am standing
without my disguise
Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 3:54 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, a lost poem<3
my pathetic desperacy
all epic with a naturalistic misery
angels hailed my numbers
now my calculations fumble
the rest
the equation unsettled on an aimless quest
everything has changed
but the undeserved trust is an ultimate unattained
my state in dooms
orbiting faces behind moons
a wreckage when asleep
like the neptunes called me
she said hit the lights
but the blinds blinded my sights
wonderful
a little optimism whisks me hopeful
forget forever the features
that lulled me once to my breather
now something broken
don't worry nothing stolen
for me to stick for me to piece neat
queen the rusted diamonds under my seat
follow the heart's revolution
undercover not a solution
alone even if disappointing
even when betraying
let my allusions surf the six temples
shadows bathing my past resembles
to come clean
find the place beyond the cold mean
like the twirl of the system
no one else wanted to resist him
took me there
to the middle of no where
my dilemma is that frightened half
no good to steal no good to laugh
but with a wake up to them dreams such a slap
a wisdom's muse would eventually snap
stars dance
her sky tortures her glance
crimson red and she realizes
that the once for all so be it would summarize this
would the potion grant a pain?
the poison of them affairs regard my chained name
let go
just say yes to saying no
stay awake
don't sleep take a break
------ravenfeels
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 5:46 PM UTC
you are cold
to the touch
despite that smile
purporting warmth
wraith
ghost
spectre
from the corner of my eye
you cannot disguise
your shape
your shadow
your intent
Oct 9, 2021
Oct 9, 2021 at 2:19 PM UTC